EYES ON YOU Read online

  She’d left Seattle and was now making a life here! Uncle Bill lived over three thousand miles away, and, although he didn’t know the guy from Adam, he very much doubted that Jess wanted anything to do with someone she believed was capable of killing the father of her children.

  He remembered Aden saying that she’d had some sort of “breakdown” before she and the kids had left Seattle. A “breakdown” was a catchall term for nervous, emotional or mental deterioration due to some degree of stress. It varied depending on the individual. Jess might have had some critical episode after her former husband died, especially when his death was initially ruled a suicide. But she struck Roman as being far stronger than that, far too stable to be unable to bounce back from a temporary “I’ve- Had-All-I-Can-Take” event. The signs of her flightiness or instability just weren’t there.

  He reminded himself that she’d bought a house. And, she’d gone to the added expense of having all of their furniture and household goods moved to their new location. Did the guy not get the message there? Maybe Uncle Bill was a creepy sort, unwilling to give up on a former sister-in-law who didn’t share his feelings? That was the most likely scenario, and the one that Roman would stick with.

  Roman had his mother’s chicken chunky and a piece of her sourdough bread for dinner, and changed to his sweats and tried to settle in to watch something on TV. Mona lay down on the couch with her head on one of his thighs, and he had thought to bring the ice pack for his ankle. His thoughts of her kept resurrecting themselves—how she was determinedly adapting to island life, a slower pace for certain—and how much she wanted Aden to adjust to a smaller town, which meant gradually becoming familiar with people in the area. Aden had asked him to interfere—so to speak—by inserting himself into the mix, but that was something he couldn’t figure out how to do.

  After nine o’clock, the phone rang and he answered by saying, “Has it seemed like a hundred years since we had our naughty little encounter, or—is it just me?”

  She laughed into the phone, the sound of it blotting out the last four hours of Roman’s gloomy thoughts. She said, “I burned an oven full of pie crusts this morning, and then Molly forgot her math book and homework.”

  “Mondays should be stricken from the calendars,” he joked.

  “There’s something I need to tell you,” she said.

  Roman replied, “You can tell me anything, Jess.”

  “It has to do with my former brother-in-law, Bill Leitner.” As she began to tell him, Roman could feel any smidgen of doubt about her disappear.

  “Bill’s taken over Gary’s job as CEO of Galaxy.”

  Roman sat up from his relaxed position. “That quickly, huh?”

  “Frank Norcross and Bill Leitner announced the agreement two days after Gary was finally buried. Until that point, Bill had been an investment broker with Galaxy—one of many, and I had assumed that Frank Norcross would take the helm. He was Gary’s partner—not Bill.”

  Roman said, “You had said that you think the Seattle Police suspect that Bill or this Norcross fellow killed Gary and made it look like a suicide?”

  “They do, but can’t prove it because Bill did a very good job of staging things to make it look like a suicide.” Pausing briefly, she added, “Gary even had gun powder residue on his hand, where he’d held the gun to his head.”

  That was fairly positive proof that her ex-husband had indeed taken his own life, but Roman decided not to remind her of that. His commitment to her, as her friend and confidante, was to listen to and support her, and to do the same thing with Aden.

  Instead, he asked, “Why do you think Bill spent time with Aden and Molly? Was he trying to impress you?”

  “He spent some time with them because Bill could see that Gary rarely had time for Aden or Molly,” she exasperatedly said. Then she hesitated before admitting, “Yes, I think he was trying to impress me, and he was making overtures toward me. Bill and his wife, Myla, got a divorce about a year after Gary and I finally did, but he had already begun making suggestive comments to me long before that.”

  Before Roman could respond, Jess added, “I’ve never looked at, or thought of him in that way. He’s too much like Gary was—too intense in his personality and far too aggressive. Plus he was my brother-in-law, for God’s sake, and the children’s uncle. Before Gary…died, Bill spent more time with the kids, taking them a few places, doing things with them, and I went along too—almost always, because I didn’t want him to be alone with them.

  “Myla Leitner, Bill’s ex-wife, told me that Bill treated her terribly during their marriage. We weren’t close, so I had no way of knowing if she was telling me the truth or not, but to be honest, I never trusted him.”

  Roman abruptly asked, “Where’s Aden right now?”

  A moment lapsed before she said, “He was about finished with his homework and then he was going on to bed. I’m downstairs in the darkroom and the door’s closed. Why are you asking?”

  “Because Bill’s planning on surprising you tomorrow, showing up unannounced. Aden got a text from him earlier today.”

  “Oh God no,” she groaned.

  Roman’s mind was rummaging through what he could do when Jess said, “Before we left Seattle, I told him that any family ties were over and that I wasn’t signing anything. He kept trying to get me to sign proxy forms.”

  Roman waited for her to say more.

  “Gary left me fifty-one percent of the investment firm. I’m going to sell my part as soon as the police are through with their investigation.”

  Roman let out an inaudible sigh of relief. “He’ll fly in to Portland?” he asked.

  “The firm leases a private jet,” she answered. “I assume he’ll use that.”

  “So he could be here as early as late-morning?”

  “He’s a night owl, so he could be leaving anytime.”

  “I’ll call you back.”

  CHAPTER 17

  “Hi, Big Brother.”

  “Cheryl.” Roman knew that his voice had an alarmed intonation to it.

  “Mom’s okay?”

  “Yeah, she’s fine. I’m calling about something else.”

  “We’re in bed watching TV, so do you want Eli to hear?”

  “Yeah—put him on speaker.”

  He waited a moment for them to mute the television and to put the call on speakerphone, and then began telling them about Jess’s former brother-in-law, how he was still being investigated by the Seattle police for the death of her former husband. “She wants nothing further to do with him and has told him that, but he’s planning to surprise her tomorrow.”

  Eli was the first to ask a question. “Jess recently bought the Hartman place—right?”

  “Yes. She and the kids moved in on Saturday,” Roman told him.

  “We’ll find out all we can about this case from Seattle,” Eli said.

  “I’ll take the day off tomorrow,” Cheryl quickly offered. “Jess is usually back home by 8:30 or so, after she drops the kids off at school and catches the ferry back?”

  “Yes,” Roman answered with relief. “I’ve thought about taking the day off to be there with her, but I think that your being there is a much better option.”

  “Not a problem,” Cheryl responded.

  “And I’ll have two patrolmen in a squad car go over on Whittler, in case there’s a need for back-up,” Eli responded.

  “I’m grateful to both of you,” Roman conveyed.

  “I like Jess and her kids a lot,” Cheryl said.

  “We do,” Eli echoed.

  “We’re all in agreement then,” Roman admitted.

  *****

  He called Jess back, she answered after the first buzz, and he told her what was lined up for the next day.

  “I am so thankful to you and your sister and brother-in-law for this. I can’t believe Bill’s doing this.”

  Roman cautioned, “Don’t say a word to Aden about your knowing Bill’s coming. Make sure all of your doors a
re locked tonight. And don’t leave the kids by themselves in the morning while you go burn more pie crusts.”

  “I don’t think I’m good with pie making,” she admitted.

  Roman hadn’t laughed any all day, except for a couple of times when Aden and he had been playing catch. But, he chuckled then. “Not your forte?”

  “Not so much,” she admitted.

  “Jess? I’m very glad you called me tonight.”

  “Me too, Roman. I’m just sorry that I’ve brought all this mess back East.”

  *****

  He was down the hill from her house by 6:50 the next morning, having dropped off Mona at Julia’s in a rush.

  “You’re going to Danny’s final game tonight?” his mother had asked him.

  “Sure am,” he said, having forgotten about this being the final week of games for both Randall boys. He recalled that the game would be played in Gardiner. Mona had been a tad lazy when Roman and she had risen from their beds, and he thought her lackadaisical disposition had a lot to do with the fact that he hadn’t slept much. When he had insomnia, she remained wakeful during the night too. “It’ll be a late night, Mom.”

  “Mona will stay with Gramma tonight,” his mother called out from the doorway while watching Mona’s mood perk up as soon as Roman held the door open for her to jump out.

  “Thanks Mom.”

  His Navigator’s engine was still sending exhaust plumes into the air when he backed out of Julia’s driveway and then sped up Baymont to Jess’s house. Only her car was in the drive, and the kids didn’t notice his presence when they came out of the house. Jess, however, spotted him in his vehicle at the foot of her drive and waved to him. He followed them down to the ferry landing to catch the 7:05, managing to pull up beside them. When he rolled down his window, Aden realized that Roman was next to them, and he likewise rolled down the front passenger window.

  “Morning,” he said with a spirited look. “Want to go to the last junior varsity game tonight? It’s in Gardiner.”

  “We do,” Jess answered, just as Aden’s enthusiastic response mirrored his mother’s. Even Molly was nodding her head while sitting strapped in the backseat.

  “Meet me at 4:30 at the office, Jess.”

  “Will do,” she said. Aden rolled up the window, but Roman thought he saw a bit of a smug grin on the kid’s face when he did.

  *****

  He had no idea who could possibly be parked in the lot of his office so early. His mind was on what and who Jess and Cheryl might encounter at some point after Jess returned home. As soon as he parked the Navigator at the end of the building, he audibly groaned before deciding to open his door.

  Cynthia Ralston was getting out of her car. Roman stalled for another moment, pretending to shuffle something imaginary on the passenger seat, giving himself a moment or two to gain his professional composure before he’d have no choice but to get out. If she had an appointment with Tess that morning, why was she here forty minutes early?

  When he finally had no choice but to step out of his vehicle, she, more than he, appeared to be the calmer one. Her full-length coat was snuggly wrapped around her, but her body language and the affable smile on her face slightly tempered Roman’s initial reaction.

  “You’re here early, Cynthia,” he said as a greeting.

  Her smile increased before she said, “I wanted to speak with you about something important, Dr. Roman.”

  Most everyone called him by his first name, or by using his formal professional title, Dr. Mayer. He discouraged the latter because he preferred less distance between his clients and himself. Cynthia, however, had chosen a hybrid variation, something most often used by the few clients he had who were adolescents. Aden, in fact, chose both the formal and informal distinction, but he hoped the boy would soon drop the “doctor” before his name.

  “What can I do for you?” he asked, while standing beside his vehicle.

  Cynthia kept the smile but hesitated in answering him. He glimpsed her facial appearance, noticing that she had applied a more tasteful amount of make-up to her face that morning, unlike on several previous occasions when she had overdone the cosmetics. Her shoulder-length hair had also been arranged in a more flattering way.

  “Miss Gilliland isn’t who I need for grief counseling,” she matter-of-factly said.

  Roman began walking toward the main entrance of the clinic, with Cynthia following alongside him. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said.

  Cynthia said nothing more until they reached the door. As soon as Roman turned around, delaying unlocking it, she asked, “Could we start over, Doctor? I’m still appalled by my behavior in your office that day, and I promise you that I’ll never do that again.” Cynthia Ralston held a contrite, yet hopeful look, her dark eyes glimmering in the faint sunlight.

  Roman countered in a soothing voice, “Tess is a licensed clinical social worker who has years of experience counseling people who’ve lost family members. You haven’t really given her much of a chance to try to help you.”

  “I can just tell,” Cynthia quickly intoned. “She and I aren’t a ‘fit.’”

  “I’m sorry.” Roman’s anxiety level was rising, something that had little to do with Cynthia. “There are just the two of us here in this area, but I can refer you to someone in Portland.”

  “No,” Cynthia unwaveringly announced. “I can’t go that far.” She looked down at her pumps and then up again. “We—you and I—have such an uncommon rapport with each other. I can’t talk about my feelings and all of the problems I’ve encountered since Douglas’s death with just anyone. You know that I can’t, Dr. Roman. You understand me and how difficult my life’s been these last months.”

  The woman stood on the doorstep of his clinic on this cold winter’s morning looking quite bereft, her breath vaporizing as it left her mouth. Her eyes were showing the beginnings of tears, but Roman could not forget her blatant sexual overtures toward him, the most recent being her attempt to remove portions of her clothing at her last closed-door session. Even now, the intense look that had come over her face reminded him that this case of transference had not ended in Cynthia’s mind.

  “I can’t.” His tone was icier than he had intended, but he needed to get the point across. And he needed Rene or Tess to show up.

  The intensity in Cynthia’s face further increased, her smile now gone and her eyes becoming fiery. “But…but you must!” she insisted, nearly screaming.

  Roman knew then that he wasn’t about to unlock the front door and have Cynthia enter the building with him. Clearly, the woman had become irrational. Anger rose to the surface, and he spoke through gritted teeth as he hissed, “I don’t have to do anything for you, Cynthia.”

  “PLEASE!” she wailed, grabbing hold of his coat, hanging onto him. “I need you!”

  Jerking himself away, Roman thought about calling an ambulance for her. There was not a psych ward at the local hospital, but the physician on duty could give her Klonopin or perhaps Ativan to help get her calmed down. Pulling out his phone with one hand, while holding her away from him with the other, he dialed 911.

  *****

  Cynthia had turned and stumbled to her car before Roman could summon an ambulance for her. He watched as she obliquely backed her car out of the space, before putting her head down on the steering wheel, obviously sobbing. But then she raised her head, staring at him and saying things that he could not hear before finally switching gears and driving away. He thought of calling the police station, but knew that she would more than likely be home before someone could be dispatched. He hoped she didn’t cause an accident.

  At ten minutes to nine, when his eight o’clock client left, he caught Tess also dismissing her client, and asked if he could speak with her for a moment. She ushered him back into her office and shut the door. He told her what had happened before office hours began.

  She kept nodding as he related the incident, and when he was through, Tess frustratingly said, “All the woman wa
nts to do is talk about you. I try to steer her toward other topics—like thinking about getting involved in some type of charity endeavor, and…before I know it, she’s back talking about you again! The woman’s well-off. Did you know?”

  “It’s becoming clearer that neither of us can help her,” Roman admitted, ignoring the ‘well off’ comment, because that made no difference to him. “When I mentioned that she could go to Portland to see someone there, she said she couldn’t go that far.”

  “I’ve mentioned that very thing too. The woman’s got…a lot of problems besides her husband’s death.”

  He thanked Tess, went back to his office and pulled out his cell to call Cheryl. She should be at Jess’s house by now.

  “I just got here,” Cheryl confirmed. “Jess and I are brewing fresh coffee. We’re by ourselves.”

  At least Jess had the most capable person that he could imagine there with her. Roman thanked her and rang off. His nine o’clock was out in the waiting area with Rene.

  Eli called him before lunchtime and asked if Roman could meet him at Lenore’s. As soon as he arrived and they’d spoken their greetings to several folks, Eli’s poker face didn’t waver. “I got some stuff from a Seattle Police detective on William Leitner. They pulled his passport and he’s on the no-fly for any foreign travel. Cheryl allowed her cell phone to ring mine once, to let me know he’s here. He arrived a little while ago.”

  “The company leases a private jet,” Roman said. “The guy had to have gotten up very early.” They placed their lunch and drink orders, and Roman resumed talking. “He had to have flown into Portland, leased a car, caught the ferry, and then had to have done a little detective work at Ruth’s, before finding out that Jess has bought the Hartman place.”

  Eli’s mouth jiggered sideways—his version of a laugh in a public place. “Dogged. I’ll give him that. Jess was given back her passport, once she was cleared by police.”

  Roman did not reply to the no-fly news, and Eli continued, observing, “No-fly is a fairly common practice when someone was close to the victim and has the means to flee.”